Unwanted Solitude
by crimkid
Summary: Harry is in full angst being left alone after 5th year. Harry never wanted solitude, he only ever wanted privacy. My first attempt at fanfic. Rating is for language.
1. Chapter 1

There is a lot to be said for solitude; they say it can be calming and soothing. Allegedly it has the power to inspire an individual. I say bullocks! There is nothing inspirational about being alone. In fact, I can see nothing inspiring, encouraging, or even remotely motivating about being alone.

Then again, I am absolutely motivated to get the hell out of here and away from this blessed solitude. It's been three weeks. Three weeks of solitude. Three weeks of sitting on my ass in my cramped bedroom waiting. Thus far I have not had an enlightened thought or existential moment where I feel… well, feel anything really, other than antagonism.

I am so sick and tired of being tired. You know when you hit hard times and your just not sure how you are going to go on and you just feel drained, exhausted… _bone_ _tired_. And the exhaustion is more emotional than anything so if you can just cheer up, get over the incident that has brought you to your knees, then you'll feel better, or at least you'll feel something.

Three bloody weeks and my exhaustion merely grows and no one seems to care. Perhaps I only have myself to blame. After all I don't send letters to my friends so why should I expect to receive any from them? I send rather rude notes to the order but only to hinder my uncle's attempts to reintroduce me to his belt every three days. I guess reading:

To Whom It May Concern, I am still alive.

HP

does nothing to inspire sympathy or compassion for the sender. Yet, sometimes I catch myself thinking that by leaving me alone that is their way of giving me what they think I want and/or need. But that's just too depressing to think of for too long, me needing solitude. I never wanted solitude, I only ever wanted privacy. I guess the difference was lost somewhere and I am the only one to blame for that.

So here I am on a beautiful Sunday afternoon doing what I have done every single day since I made it home from Hogwarts this year: NOTHING. I wake up, use the loo, wash my face, get dressed, write the order if it is the correct day to do so, and sit on my bed… all day long. The relatives have decided I am not to leave my room for my safety as well as theirs. They figure if this whole blood protection thing is so damn important that I have to be forced on them summer after summer then I should be as _well_ protected as possible within their home. In other words, I am being held prisoner in the smallest bedroom in the house.

It's odd though, these past few weeks I have almost longed to be back in the cupboard under the stairs. As unusual as this may seem I am desperate for some normality; I am hungry for the comfort of familiarity. I spent ten years of my life in that hole in the wall and as off as this may sound it is the only place I feel safe in this house. When I was in the cupboard I knew what was expected of me, when I was allowed to be seen and even when I was allowed to speak. No surprises really and that _is_ comforting. And after all that has happened in the past year I guess I would happily welcome that feeling of comfort, as distorted as it may be. The cupboard never equaled solitude, for I was never alone, I was apart of the family, even if it was purely as the domestic help, in the cupboard I had privacy. Now I live in Dudley's second bedroom and after the order's warning I no longer have a status in the family, I'm not even the domestic help anymore.

They pretend I don't exist and that worked for me for about three days until I woke up from a dream where my parents were standing in front of me trying to tell me something but no matter how hard I tried I could not hear the words they spoke. They disappeared before my eyes and I woke up in a cold sweat with my heart beating so fast and tears fighting my eyelids for escape. I'm not sure why that dream affected me so, its not like I haven't had worse but at that moment I wanted nothing more than a warm smile from someone who cared about me and I wanted them to tell me it was going to be all right. I have this feeling that because I needed someone to say those words to me so desperately that that must have been what my parents were attempting to tell me but couldn't. It makes me wonder what Mrs. Weasley would have said to me if she had been there when I woke up distressed; not that she would have been, but sometimes I like to imagine certain moments in my life where she's my mum.

I could write to her. She would come and visit if I asked, but that would ruin the fantasy of having a mum who just _knows_ when to be there for you. Perhaps this is the perfect example of my corruption of privacy into solitude. She won't come because she thinks I don't want her to come and I haven't the emotional intelligence to fix that.

"You look lost." I jumped; I never heard anyone enter my room.

"What are you doing here professor?"

"Came to see how you were and to ask you if you have spent enough time with your family and are ready to leave?"

"I'm ready." Lupin looks hurt by my response. Perhaps he was expecting a polite greeting or some other bullshit.

'Can we talk first?" He seemed hesitant to ask.

"There's nothing to talk about. Can we just leave?" Yet another hurt expression and then a defeated nod. I am not about to get into anything with him in this room! I hate this room; it has been sucking the life out of me for the past three weeks; I just need to get out. Maybe I should have said that out loud.

No more words were exchanged. I assume he told the Dursley's I was leaving because we were being transported by portkey within the next few minutes. My trunk had never really been unpacked, it didn't take me long to get my things together.

Then it happened. I was back in Grimmauld Place for the first time without Sirius. Don't ask me what it felt like or what thoughts ran through my head because I'm not sure. I only know I am grateful retuning here for the first time can only happen once; what I can tell you is the feelings could not be classified as good.

"Harry?" Hermione's looking at me with intense concern. I must have a peculiar expression on my face as I take in the unholy nature of the Black estate, the dark decor hasn't been redone and I can only seem to remember this house as the place that once sheltered my godfather.

"Hey." Then I did something no one was expecting, least of all me. I took her into a sweeping embrace and held tight. I had never initiated a hug with her before, well with anyone actually, but it just happened and it felt good. She smiled after I finally let her go and that was when I noticed all the people that had come out into the entryway to greet me. Ron, Ginny, Mad Eye, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, along with Lupin and Hermione, were all there looking at me. At times like this I yearn for privacy again.

"Hello everyone," I say awkwardly. I look to Ron but he doesn't say anything and his eyes are looking away. I'm confused by this behavior but before I have time to contemplate its meaning I am being escorted into the kitchen and a large plate of something is placed in front of me as I am expected to eat it… all. Good; I'm starving and didn't even know it, but Mrs. Weasley did. She knew without me telling her; that's when I log the moment away in my fantasy mum file to review later when I am in need of a happy thought.

I can't stand the sullen quiet atmosphere any longer; it had been nearly an hour, so I begin to talk. It was like word vomit. I could not filter what came out and could not stop it either.

"Well, this is a bitch. What the hell are we all doing back here? Am I alone in thinking this is just wrong, unnatural, and completely unnecessary? There has just got to be another place acceptable enough to make headquarters, is there not? Can we not maintain at another address?" The response was unanimous, everyone stared in shock. I wasn't yelling, my voice was barely raised but I suppose that was not what they were expecting to hear. I looked around for some support but was just left feeling flabbergasted at the fact we were still pretending everything was ok and that Sirius was just out for the moment and was not in fact dead.

"Harry, can we have that talk now?" Lupin stood up and put his hand on my shoulder, a firm hand that expressed no desire to have it out in the kitchen in front of everyone. I on the other hand felt like having a scene. If everyone was so content on remaining so conveniently and defiantly silent then I was more than ready to fill the space with ranting and raving if only because I had been unable to back on Privet Drive. I'm nearly 16 and I wanted a tantrum; no I needed to have a tantrum. Everything was just so fucked up and it was entirely Voldemort's doing.

I stayed firmly rooted in my seat but looked up at Lupin and said, "So talk."

Absolutely disappointed in me Lupin let go of my shoulder and walked away from me.

"Harry, grow up!" It was the coldest thing anyone could have said to me at that moment and it came from the person I least expected it from, Lupin. I had several responses to dish out but the words would not form at my lips and I was stuck staring at the Weasleys not ready to hear what Lupin was going to hurl at me next.

"I'll be in the sitting room when you decide you can have a discussion with me." That said he began to leave the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was in a panic, certain I may explode at any second. I think I must have surprised her with what I said next.

"I want a lawyer." Lupin stopped dead in his tracks and whispered, "What," as the rest of the spectators resumed their blatant bewilderment of the situation.

"I want a lawyer. Lines have been blurred. I am without a magical guardian and this has left an open void for well intentioned, but inappropriate, persons to overstep their authority and take up parental control over me. I need an advocate." I looked straight into Lupin's eyes and said, "I don't need another pseudo-parental authority figure."

He took the nearest seat; I think he nearly fell over. I didn't mean to be so bitter but the truth is often laced with tartness.

"Harry dear, perhaps you don't understand what Professor Lupin is attempting to help you with. Please just listen to him and hear him out." I nodded in agreement and Lupin began to speak again.

"I wanted to speak to you about Sirius's will. He had a few final wishes and I was asked to make sure they were all fulfilled. Among other thing I inherited, _you_ are the most important. I now have legal custody of you; it's what Sirius wanted."

"What do you want?" I was certain he was going to say he wanted me but that I would be able to tell he didn't. After all, he was never in my life until my 3rd school year and Sirius had been as good as dead in Azkaban for more than 12 years before that.

"I'm reluctant to take you." There he said it and he didn't even bother to cover it with a nice lie. _He didn't want me_. Not shocked but more than a bit hurt I got out of my chair and walked out the front door. I didn't hear people telling me to come back or to slow down. In fact, I don't think I didn't hear it because no one ever said those things. They let me walk away.

So that was it, Lupin wanted a private conversation with me so that no one would hear him reject me. This thought and several more haunted me as I walked down the street not really sure where I was heading. After nearly 15 years of being an orphan I have gotten used to the rejections and the abandonment. I was never adopted; hell, I was never even considered by any family for adoption. The Dursleys flat out rejected me the moment they found me on their doorstep. Not to mention the shameful feelings I have often felt that my parents abandoned me as well; leaving me all alone in the world which I can't help but feel is fate worse than death. The only time I ever felt truly wanted was when Sirius asked me to live with him. He didn't even know me but he still wanted me. It was because of that that I was ready to answer immediately with a resounding yes, even before I was 100 certain he was not a killer and betrayer.

I walked into a pub three blocks down the street. I went straight to the back and into the bathroom and turned on the water. I splashed my face and stared at my reflection. I nearly vomited; I was so disgusted with what I saw. My face was pale and gaunt, dark circles were under my eyes, and to my horror my bottom lip was trembling, a tell tale sign I was about to lose it.

How the hell did I turn into this pathetic person staring at me from behind the mirror? Why should I care after all these years if no one wants me? Suck it up and get over yourself Potter or you will be just a cheap replica of some sad sob story of the lonely orphan who only wanted a family to love him. Bugger! I have far too more important thing to be getting on with than that sad song. I slapped myself hard across the face and turned off the water and started the walk back to headquarters.

I was only gone for perhaps 40 minutes but by the time I walked back into the kitchen the only person there was Mr. Weasley. He motioned for me to sit and I obeyed.

"You alright?" I could tell he was concerned.

"Just needed some air." So it was a bit of a lie but there was a lot of truth to it as well. Just as well because he didn't seem to buy it anyway.

"You look exhausted." Yes! Yes, I was exhausted, not tired but exhausted. Did he understand this? The way he looked at me told me he did. The bottom lip began to tremble again and I could not hide the fact.

"I don't know what to do anymore," I said as my voice cracked a little but no tears fell.

"You don't have to do anything." He meant it to be comforting but I could only shake my head furiously as I recalled the prophesy word for word inside my head. Mrs. Weasley had come in and sat down next to her husband at this point and I did not trust my voice so I remained silent.

She took my hand and in hers and held it as she spoke, "I wish you would tell us what's been bothering you."

"I can't," I breathed out. The tears were threatening to spill but I held them off the best I could. "It's not fair! I'm nearly 16, why now? Why now, when I am more than capable of looking after myself, why now more than ever do I want my parents? I _need_ them right now to get through this and they aren't here!" I took a deep breath, held it and then let it out slowly. At this point I am ready to bail again. Maybe I was a bit harsh on solitude, at least with solitude I wouldn't be having this conversation with people who own me nothing and yet I continue to take from their family at every opportunity. I feel sick again as I take advantage of my best friend's parents goodness. This is not their problem and I am not their son. They have seven kids to worry about and here I am monopolizing the pair of them.

"You know what," I blurt out as I stand up, "I have gotten on just fine without them and this will be no different. I mean, I learned to do all sorts of things without them or anyone else for that matter," I'm grasping and I know it. I just need to be able to convince myself and then I'm sure I'll be able to convince them as well. "I learned to walk and talk, learned my letters and numbers, tied my shoe for the first time by myself…, no one was there for me then and it may have taken me a little longer but I managed it all the same!" My voice continued to rise and as the damn broke behind my eyes and the tears streamed down my face.

Before I turned away from them to hide my embarrassment I continued, "I did alright, didn't I? I mean, I turned out ok on my own? Right?" I was pleading now. I really needed to know if they thought I was totally screwed up or if I may have in fact managed to just scrape by.

"Of course dear. You've turned out so well. Your parents would be so proud of you! Nothing is wrong with you."

"If that's true why doesn't he want me?"

Do I continue?


	2. Chapter 2

"Of course dear. You've turned out so well. Your parents would be so proud of you! Nothing is wrong with you."

"If that's true why doesn't he want me?" Mrs. Weasley was crying now and looking at me with a lost expression, like she knew she should contradict me but couldn't form the argument to make it stick. I stared back and shook my head pleading with her not to say anything, knowing she would only fail and my ears couldn't handle that at the moment.

The old scar on my forehead began to twinge and before I could consider it the pain grew to an unbearable intensity. I clapped my hands over the scar in a futile attempt at hamper the pain. I didn't realize I had closed my eyes until I opened them and saw spots of light and heard muffled noises. Then it stopped. I held my position afraid of reactivating the sensations but then slowly reoriented myself to my surroundings.

"Harry, what happened?" Mr. Weasley was holding me up by the shoulders. Funny, I never saw him leave his chair. Mrs. Weasley was gone. Maybe she went to get help; I'm not sure.

I shrugged Mr. Weasley off and put a tentative hand to my brow. As my hand drifted back down my sense of balance was skewed and my eyes rolled back into my head. I collapsed onto the cold hard kitchen floor.


	3. Chapter 3

I shrugged Mr. Weasley off and put a tentative hand to my brow. As my hand drifted back down my sense of balance was skewed and my eyes rolled back into my head. I collapsed onto the cold hard kitchen floor.

I must not have been out for too long. My eyes fluttered open and I was still on the floor but now there were more people in the kitchen than before. Mrs. Weasley had returned with Lupin and Ron and Hermione trailing behind. The thing I was most aware of was the cool sensation on my cheek.

"He's running a fever. But I'm sure it was his scar that caused it, " Mr. Weasley explained to Lupin. The cool feeling left my cheek and moved to my forehead and I prayed it would not leave. But it did and moved over my scar. Immediately I flinched away, rolled myself into a sitting position and attempted to stand.

"Easy Harry, just sit back down. You're not well."

"I'm fine Mr. Weasley, stop fussing." Hermione in all her glory pulled over a chair for me in an effort to make a compromise. A chair seemed nicer than the floor so I accepted it. Actually, I more or less fell into it. The truth was I didn't feel that great but I supposed it had more to do with my emotion outburst than anything.

"What happened Harry," Lupin asked as Mrs. Weasley began to make tea.

"My scar hurt. And then… and then I don't know." It was an honest answer but not one that satisfied anyone. Lupin seemed more interested in the fact I could not make eye contact with him or anyone else.

"Look at me." I tried but was too ashamed. Why did he have to be there? Why was he making grand gestures to help me? "Was it Voldemort? Did you have a vision? Are you still in pain?"

"Too many questions." I finally looked him in the eye. "Please, just one at a time." I felt lightheaded again and my concentration was dissolving.

Lupin softened and asked me again in a quite kind of a whisper, "Are you still in pain?"

I lightly shook my head and he asked, "Did you have a vision?" I didn't answer right away, I was thinking. If I did have a vision I didn't remember it so I shook my head a second time. "Was it your scar; was it Voldemort?"

"Yes." Lupin sighed and handed me a cup of tea. Then he left my sight and moved to speak with the Weasleys in private. Ron came over and openly stared at me.

"What?" I was getting rather annoyed with my friend's behavior.

"Hermione went to send word to Dumbledore but she'll be back soon. Are you ok?" I thought about my response and decided on the most truthful answer I could manage by this point, "No. But it's been a hell of day and I just want it to end." Ron nodded and then smiled. "Wanna go up to our room and make fun of the Slytherins?"

I had to smile at that. "Sounds good but I'm not sure I'm cleared to leave just yet." I looked up at Lupin as I said this and he seemed to consider it for a moment. Then he leaned in and asked, "Can we finish our conversation tomorrow?"

I got angry but I tried to suppress it. No, I didn't want to continue the 'conversation from hell' tomorrow. If we had to do it I was going to get it all out tonight so I could wake up tomorrow and pretend like it never happened!

Abruptly I stood up. "Why wait? You wanted to do this in the sitting room, right?" I didn't wait for a response. Instead I walked right out the kitchen and into the sitting room.

Lupin, not wanting to miss his chance, was right behind me.

"Please calm down. I don't want a repeat of what happened earlier." Fuming, I stalked to the back wall and leaned against it in hopes it would hold me back from retaliation.

"I realize that what I said earlier, regarding my stance on accepting guardianship of you, was not well received."

"Look, I get it, ok? Why are we even doing this? It's not like it matters anyway! Nothing will change. Even if you took me, I doubt I would be leaving the secure confines of Privet Drive, owing to the all powerful blood protection and all. Why go through this when it doesn't even matter in the end?"

"It matters to me. I don't understand why you are so upset." He was clueless. How could my dad and Sirius been friends with someone so dense? I was wrong in thinking going through with this tonight was the best plan. I feel so drained and I am starting to think Mr. Weasley was right when he said earlier I was feverish. This had to end and it had to end soon. So I mustered all my resolve and asked the question.

"Why don't you want me?"

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Sorry the last two chapters have been so short. More to come if you are still interested.


	4. Chapter 4

"Why don't you want me?"

"I _do _want you but I am reluctant to take you because I don't have faith I can care for you properly," Lupin said in a somber manner. I had to laugh out loud at his excuse. Not being able to care for me properly; was he mad? No one has ever cared for me properly, including the almighty Dumbledore.

"What's so funny," he asked with annoyance.

"You. You don't listen to me. I already told you I don't need another pseudo parental authority figure in my life. I need an advocate. Do honestly think I need looking after?"

"Of course you need looking after! You're just a child Harry! And now with Sirius gone I am being called to fill his shoes. I want to Harry but I'm not sure I can."

"Sirius was never parental Professor. He was great friend at best. I miss him like hell but I didn't lose my father or godfather that night; I lost a mate."

"I thought you and Sirius were very close…" Lupin is clearly puzzled.

"We were as close as a grown escaped con can be to a kid who he has known irregularly for approximately two years. I loved the idea of him; I think that is what I miss the most. But to be honest we never had the time to bond; he was locked up here and I was in school most of the time. Occasionally he gave me advice but if you recall _you_ were often involved in those conversations. Just let go of this idea you are holding onto that you have to become my father. I don't need that nor do I want it." I'm surprised I was able to say all that but Lupin's face says he is relieved if not a little confused.

"So what are you saying you want from me Harry?"

"I don't want you to take up guardianship of me."

"I have to; it's what Sirius wanted."

"Let me ask you this: When did he write the will, before or after Azkaban?"

"Before; but that doesn't make a difference."

"It makes a world of difference. He wrote that request when I was still a baby. I'm not a baby anymore. I can look after myself and I think Sirius wouldn't want me to be handed over at this age." Lupin's only immediate response was to shake his head slowly.

"First you're upset because you think I don't want you and now you are telling me you in fact don't want me."

"I _do _want you but not as my guardian."

"I'm lost. What is it you do want from me?"

"Don't sign the papers. Just be my friend and sometimes allow me to come to you for advice."

"If we're going to friends," he starts with smile spreading across his face, "then we must put a stop to all this _Professor_ nonsense. Your father and Sirius were my best friends and they called me Moony."

"Then are we agreed, Moony?" At the verbal release of his name he walked over to the refuge I had taken against the wall and put a hand on my shoulder and said, "Agreed."

"Harry, what's that on your face?" He was staring concerned at my right cheek. I put a hand up to it and felt the bruise. I had forgotten about the harsh slap I had given myself earlier in the evening.

"Oh, nothing, I forgot, I fell down the stairs this morning before you arrived. I guess its just starting to show now." I lied but it wouldn't do to stir the pot so soon after we decided I was capable to looking after myself. I can tell he doesn't quit believe me but he lets it go and we both rejoin the others in the kitchen.ou

* * *

I realize I could end the story here but I do have a chapter alreadywritten involving Harry discovering the power he has that can be used to defeat Voldemort (and it has not been heard before, at least as far as I know). Could be a great new plot twist. Please let me know if you would like me to continue.

Again, I am sorry about the short chapters. Some of them i had planned on combining but I am new to posting and it takes me days to post just one chapter! I have not figured out the whole posting thing just yet but I am sure to improve.

Thanks to all of you reading and reviewing!


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you, to everyone who has reviewed. In response to some reviews I would only like to say that this is my very first attempt at writing and posting a story. I am learning like everyone else and having the reviews helps in this process. I understand chapters can be combined and other features can be used to clean up a story but I have not learned them…yet.

I have been using the reviews to help direct the story and get a better idea of how the readers would like to see it. Some people prefer pure angst or feeling pieces where there is little plot but a lot of character introspection, while others prefer a heavy plotline. I have prepared both but am using you good people to steer me in what I actually post.

Again, thanks for taking the time out to read this story and extra special thanks to those who review! Cheers.

The next day I was flipping through the photo album Hagrid had given me my first year at Hogwarts. I was staring at the pictures of my parents and the occasional shot of my recently departed godfather. No matter what I told myself in an attempt to abandon the ill feelings towards my parents that continued to linger these past few months, I was still angry with them for leaving me stranded. I know it wasn't their fault but a part of me resents the fact they consciously acted in a manner that would ensure my current state… which in their defense, is alive.

I was brought out of my revere by Hermione's soft and always concerned voice. "What are you thinking about?"

"My parent's sacrifice, I know it's terrible and ungrateful of me but I'm angry with them." I'm not normally this open but I have come to realize that Hermione is the one person in the world who has never judged me. Looking back through our friendship it occurred to me that she is and always has been my wendybird. I thought once of sharing this with her, knowing only she would understand the muggle reference to Peter Pan, but decided against it knowing it would make Ron uncomfortable if he ever got wind of it. He wouldn't understand the significance of the girl-bird who was shot down by the very lost boys who she would soon befriend and care for, as their mother, and in the end rescue all but one from never growing up.

"Is it wrong that I can't seem to forgive their decision even when I understand and appreciate it?"

"It's not wrong but maybe you should consider the benefits of it more." She being a bit enigmatic and I realize this means she has something she really wants to say but is nervous it maybe out of bounds.

"I don't understand; what benefits? What are you getting at?" I hope I sound open to what she is about to lay on me.

"Forgiveness, Harry, is very powerful and quite liberating. It has a natural restorative essence. In my opinion, it is more powerful than magic. Think about it, everyone has the capacity to forgive, even muggles, but most of us are too frightened to utilize it because it only works if you really mean it."

"Do you think everyone deserves forgiveness? I mean, aren't certain transgressions too awesome?"

"All I know for certain, although having never been put in the position that would require me to grant absolution for someone who transgressed so significantly against me, is that granting forgiveness allows you to take back the control that you lose when someone does something horrible to you or those you care for. We are all victims of this world but sometimes it's hard to see the scars of another when we are blinded by our own."

"So, if we can see past our own pain and look deeper at those who transgress against us we may be able to forgive them and thus restore the balance?"

"I honestly don't know if that is true, it's only a philosophical theory. Forgiveness may be more powerful than magic but it is far less precise. You must realize while your mother knew she was leaving you alone in this world she did not, at least it was not her intention to, abandon you. Same for your father, his actions were intended to give you and your mother a greater chance for survival, but sometimes the ultimate sacrifice simply isn't enough."

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I spent many days contemplating what Hermione said. Several days before we were to make our traditional journey to Diagon Alley to purchase the necessary new school items, I felt an intense need to know more about maternal sacrifices.

"Moony, I need some help." I had caught Lupin off guard but I could see he was not at all disappointed I chose to come to him.

"Certainly, Harry, take a seat." I can tell he is a bit nervous, this being the first time I've cashed in on our new arraignment.

"Don't get too excited. I just need help contacting Dumbledore. It's urgent I speak to him. It concerns the prophecy to some extent."

"What exactly do you know about the prophecy?" Lupin looks at me as though I know something he doesn't.

"More than you. Will you help me?"

"What do you know?"

"Everything, but I'm not getting into it now or probably ever. Will you still help me?"

After a long drawn out sigh Lupin looks me in the eye and assures me he will make the necessary arraignments.

Lupin was true to his word and not two days passed before I found myself staring face to face with my headmaster. The meeting was private, no invitations were granted to outsiders. It was just too personal. I knew Hermione understood and would make Ron see sense.

Dumbledore and I took up residence in Sirius's old bedroom for an entire day. After the sun had been set for several hours we adjourned and I made my way down to the kitchen for my first meal of the day. All eyes were on me as I took a plate from Mrs. Weasley and began to eat.

"Well? What happened?" Ron seemed to feel he was entitled to details after spending the day excluded from all the excitement.

"We talked. And now I have a lot to think about." With that I headed up stairs to get some much needed sleep. I knew my friends were disappointed I didn't divulge my conversation with them but I knew they could never understand why I spent the entire day discussing sacrifices with the greatest wizard alive; they still didn't know about the prophecy.

The morning I awoke, on the day we all would be going to Diagon Alley, I felt different. Not bad or ill but calmer than I had been in a long while. The calm, oddly enough, was quite disconcerting. I decided to ignore it and just be pleased I was experiencing it.

The calm disappeared however as soon as I saw Malfoy senior sitting at a far table in the Three Broomsticks. Was I hallucinating or wasn't he supposed to be in prison?

"What the hell is he doing here?" Ron was livid. Luckily he was expressing everything I was feeling but couldn't, seeing as how I was still diagnosing myself for lingering psychoses. But I quickly discarded the idea I was touched in the head as Ron and I would have had to being sharing the same hallucination and that didn't seem probable.

I looked around and saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley herding all her children out of the pub. Mr. Weasley grasped my shoulder in an attempt to usher me out but I stood rooted to the ground. Something had just occurred to me. Something that had been swimming around in my head for days now, ever since I had the marathon conversation with Dumbledore. I walked with purpose over to elder Malfoy and his party. The calm I felt that morning came back but in waves and I felt certain it was a sign what I was about to do was right.

"Tell him I'm ready." Malfoy senior stares hard at me in response.

"Are you saying…" He can't quite find the words and to be honest neither can I, so I just nod. "Where and when," he asked me most excitedly.

"Tell him to go back to the beginning and he'll know when," I reply cryptically.

"The beginning? Godric's Hollow? Potter that is so unoriginal." He frays disappointment.

"That's the middle; I said the beginning. Just tell him I'm ready." Then I walked away.

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St. Jerome Emiliani's Hospital was located in the outskirts of London; I say was, because it no longer houses the hundreds of women who went there to give birth to unwanted babies. The dank and corrupted building, where today addicts come to enjoy a quick fix, was the location where Tom Riddle was born and orphaned in the same evening. It was also destined to be the same location Tom Riddle would repent and receive his final reprisal. Like all good stories ours was circular and would end where started. 

To be continued.


	6. Chapter 6

The Order was in an uproar ever since I publicly declared my readiness to face Voldymort. I on the other hand was still reeling in the intense comfort the declaration had granted me. While everyone else was on edge and verging on violence to extract my plans, I was enjoying every moment of being near those who truly loved me even if they were more than a bit aggravated with me. "Harry, please listen to reason! Why did you confront Malfoy and what on earth are you planning?" Hermione shrieked for the hundredth time since we had returned from shopping. I could only smile at her. "You are so infuriating!" "Mione, why are you so tense? You're the one who helped me see what I have to do. I would think you of all people would understand." "That's just it Harry, I don't know what I helped you realize!" "Look, I'll tell you if I come out of this thing alive." I told her with sincerity. However instead of being satisfied she merely started to bawl. "That's not exactly comforting mate." An irritated Ron said as he followed Hermione out of the den. I couldn't understand why everyone seemed so disheartened. I was on top of the world. Nothing, nothing in my life had ever felt so clear. Why couldn't they all just trust me this once? As I was pondering the order's constant state of defeat Lupin entered the den and took the seat Ron had just vacated. "I know I'm not your father, we've been over that, but we confirmed we're friends now right? " I could only smile up at him. I'd been doing that a lot lately, smiling. Lupin on the over hand looks worn out just from the sight of me. "Please explain what you are doing Harry." "I'm doing what I need to do for myself, not for anyone else and _that_ is the difference." I couldn't be more pleased with my response as though I had just spouted the meaning of life. It all made complete sense to me but apparently no one else was getting it, clearly not Lupin. "I'm gonna need a lot more than that. I know you feel you need to avenge the deaths of your parents Harry, I have felt that too, but facing him now is absurd especially since you refuse to allow the order to help. And to be perfectly honest you are sabotaging the efforts the order has built up over the years with this stunt." "Why is it no one ever listens to me? No one ever listens to the words I speak they simply take what I have said and twist them into some other meaning, taking them completely out of context. I don't think I am being stereotypically adolescent when I say no one understands me! Am I speaking another language? Have I slipped into speaking parseltoungue unknowingly?" The wonderful bliss I had been experiencing was quickly dissolving. Does every teenager feel so completely misunderstood? "I am listening; I hear you Harry." "No you don't because you think I want to destroy Voldymort." "Of course you want to destroy Voldimort, we all want that!" "Not all of us." Lupin has angry face and I can tell he is attempting to control his emotions. He takes a moment before he speaks and when he does his voice is slow and controlled. "Are you saying you don't want him dead?" I was not afraid; I continued to look him straight in the eye but I didn't answer. "Harry, I don't know what has got into you recently but I feel I need to remind you of the damage he has done…" I cut Lupin off because I was all too aware of what Voldymort had done and hearing it again wouldn't help any. "He's not so wrong." 'What! He murdered your parents, he is the reason Sirius is dead!" "I know. But I understand." I said lightly. Lupin is in a state of shock, looking like he wants to respond, to shake some sense into me but he can't formulate the words. I guess I dropped a bomb on him. I seem to be doing that a lot. "Look, this is something I need to do for myself, not for my parents, not for Sirius, not because of some prophesy, and not because it's my duty, but because I _need_ to do this." I smiled at him. "I still know where my allegiance lies but I need you and the order to back off and let me do this. I have a good feeling about it and Dumbledore must approve to some extent seeing as he hasn't come to lecture me since I spoke to Malfoy." "Does Dumbledore know what you are about to do?" Lupin seems very hopeful. "No, but ever since we spoke I think he may just have a little more faith in me. Have faith in me too Moony." That night I left headquarters on my own leaving only a general note behind to explain my absence in the morning. Dear Order: Please don't worry. HP 


End file.
